Let the Chips Fall Where They May
by Lost-heaven7
Summary: Season Five finale aftermath. After Blair meets Chuck at the casino in Paris, will he trust her enough to take her back? Or will Queen B have to work to win back this Bass' attention? A new collection of stories following the Gossip Girl cast during my take on Season 6
1. Let the Chips Fall Where They May

**Let the Chips Fall Where They May**

Chuck watched with guarded eyes as Blair slowly pushed all of her chips across the table in front of her. Incredulous, he saw her gaze at up at him with her big brown eyes, the flurry of the bright lights making him dizzy under the glare.

"Your bet, sir?"

It had been weeks since Chuck Bass had set eyes on Blair Waldorf 'the love of his life'; and to suddenly see her in Paris after all this time was like a bullet to the heart. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. Why was she here? Why now?

"Excuse me." He murmured, not daring to look in Blair's direction as he removed himself from the table, running his hands nervously through his hair as he swaggered towards the door.

"Chuck?" She shouted after him, sliding off her seat, and ignoring the eye rolling of a curious Jack Bass, whisky glass in hand.

"Ahh, young love." He smirked from behind his glass, winking at the card dealer opposite.

"Go to hell." Blair snapped at him, pulling her Dior purse from the table and running after a rapidly departing Bass. "Chuck, wait!" She cried, catching up with him and tugging on the sleeve of his suit jacket.

"What, Blair? What do you want from me?"

"I want you..."

"Now, you want me." He choked, his voice breaking pitch unsteadily in his throat. "Six months ago, you didn't care. Are you going to marry a prince, again? Have Gossip Girl send photos of you making out with Humphrey in _my_ bedroom?"

"It's over now, I promise..."

She ran her fingers along his sleeve, flicking her hair over her shoulder. The nape of the neck. Chuck's kryptonite. His eyes were burning, she could see it written across his face. She knew he'd been alone this summer, off the map practically. It had taken only the evidence from an unreliable Jack Bass to even locate him at all. She needed him again. She needed him to love her.

Chuck's breath was coming in raspy and uneven. She needed to take her chance, while she could still reach him. She stepped closer, her palm barely touching his chest.

"Blair..." He whispered huskily,

"Don't spoil it..." She murmured, running two fingers along his cheek and leaning in towards him. He couldn't resist. She knew he wouldn't resist. His lips reached for hers hungrily. It had been too long. She coaxed open his lips with her tongue, running her fingers through his soon to be messy brown hair. He was where he wanted to be. Maybe now she'd make him see that...

"Chuck!"

Quickly he snapped out of whatever trance had kept him still, and resentfully pulled his lips away from hers, wiping the guilty trace of lipstick from around his mouth.

"Your driver's here with the limo, the party at the Croft's, remember?" Everything was a muddle, he could barely think straight. Pulling his arm out of Blair's grasp, she struggled to let him go.

"You're leaving?" She questioned disbelievingly, her arms folded furiously across her chest.

"I made plans with a local businessman uptown, he and my father have... A history."

"But what about...?"

"Blair, this doesn't change anything." He sighed, looking away. An un-disguisable look of hurt making a mockery of his face. Looking at an impatient, Jack Bass, he let his eyes roam everywhere except on Blair. He knew that just one look would reel him in, and then they'd be back exactly where they started. Where they've always started. This time he promised that if he trusted himself to go down that road again with Blair, he'd make sure to do it right. The unfulfilled promise from over six years ago.

Blair stood in the middle of the floor and watched him walk away from her. She felt a knot in the pit of her stomach, disappointed in herself that she'd believed it to be so easy to once again win back his trust. Taking her phone out of her clutch, she texted Dorota "Call me a cab, I'm going home."

It was late before Blair arrived back at the hotel suite, ready for a relaxing evening to herself. She needed some time to think. The hurt and rejection filling her body like it had many times before. She swiped the key into the door, impatiently.

"C'mon..." She complained, "Just open already!" She wiped a hand across her face, already convinced that she'd be in tears before she'd even closed the door. Memories of the past kept blurring up her vision. And she regretted the mistakes that she'd made this year. "Divorced, at under twenty five." She laughed pitifully, "what a joke." She really needed her best friend right now, but just like everybody else, she was off the map. Blair flopped herself down on the bed, exhausted and began pulling off her heels, kicking them across the carpet. A lonely tear rolled sadly down her cheek. She thought she was getting through to him, she didn't expect to feel so... devastated.

Just then she felt the crumple of plastic under her elbow, and she rolled over to see a bouchet of peonies lying on the bed. Her head a whirlwind, she looked around her wildly. A smile protruding from her deep red lips as she guessed the name of her mysterious sender. Picking them up, she looked at the note card tucked inside the pink bouchet. "Wait for me" it said,

And wait she would.


	2. Are You Sure?

**'Are you Sure?'**

Dark lights and a flicker of red. The world was asunder and Chuck was right in the centre, calling her name. Skin tight; Crystal lace and the noise deafened him. He could practically feel the sultry red lips of the dancers on stage as they spun around their star performer, the one with the lavishing brunette curls. He tugged at his suit jacket with pride, taking another swig of bourbon as he stared assuredly at the dancer as she dropped her dress to the floor. A flush of heat rose to his collar as he watched her curves swaying gently from side to side, eyeballing any man who dared to look upon her. He decided in that moment, that somewhere, somehow, she would be his.

Suddenly there was a rumble, and it felt like the whole club was stirring beneath his feet. The glasses began to tinkle upon the bar tops. He looked up at the girl performing as she looked around wide eyed and afraid. He wanted to protect her, save her, but he didn't know how.

"Wait." She cried, "where are you going?" He felt himself slipping away from the darkness and away from her, but he wanted to stay, all he wanted to do was stay with her and...

"Chuck Bass! If I have to knock on this door one more time I'll be leaving without you. Stop pining for your lady friend and get out of bed. We have a business to run." Called his uncle, commandingly, from behind the door. Chuck rubbed his eyes lazily and looked around the hotel room, the remnants of powder and drink from last night lying casually across the coffee table by his bed.

"Just a second." He shouted back, looking towards his wardrobe and sighing heavily. Only a week left in Paris: and still so many decisions to make.

Blair popped the sleeping mask from around her eyes as she awoke to the rest of the world. Like a sleeping goddess awoken, not by a kiss from a prince, but by the conviction of her own self worth that dragged her from her handsome abode.

"Dorota..." She sang sweetly, "I must have my breakfast if we're to be getting an early start on today's duties."

"Yes, Miss Blair," returned Derota, carrying in a silver tray covered with an array of fruit and breakfast pastries.

"That will be all." She shooed, stretching herself out under the covers and tasting only the most appetising fruit that had been laid in her presence. She heard a beep from her cell, and her eyes lit up as she saw the latest Gossip Girl post, Chuck was still in Paris, and even better, she had an exact location. Today was going to be a good day. She could just feel it.

Jack Bass looked at his nephew from across the oak table and began to squirm. It was unhealthy, unnatural to let a girl get under your skin like that; and their business was clearly beginning to flounder under the weight of a weak leader. He could see the fear in the eyes of his colleagues sat in the meeting room of the Artisan Hotel: Chuck was distracted, and with the profits beginning to weaken in the economical crisis of the summer, somebody had to take action.

"Chuck?" He called, watching the vague, dim light switch on behind his eyelids. "A word?"

Jack stood up from the table, and beckoned him towards the door. Chuck followed like a puppy, watching the eyes of his subordinates, all eager to watch the baby Bass fall.

"Chuck, you're not yourself." Jack urged, pulling on his collar as he tried to speak some sense into his nephew. "Please, just go home and get some rest."

"I'm fine." Chuck replied, "I can do this, Jack." His voice sounded stern, and Jack almost faltered as he felt the return of Chuck's stubborn nature. He watched the dreams of his own empire crumble as Chuck departed back towards the door.

"I called her." He shouted out in desperation. The words tumbling out of his mouth, before he had a chance to think about the lies he was twisting around his crooked lips. "She's waiting for you, in your hotel room." He corrected, smoothly, watching Chuck's hand pausing on the doorknob of the meeting room. "Let me finish up here. Just go! She's not going to wait around forever you know."

Chuck gave Jack a smile, "you have no idea how much this means to me." he said, "you've really had my back this summer. And for that, I am _eternally_ in your debt."

He watched his nephew walk smoothly from sight, before Jack pulling his cell from his suit breast pocket and beginning to dial a number which he knew almost off by heart.

"Yes, hi, I'd like a friend for my guest tonight... Yes, it's the same suite as usual... Yes, the one this time. Preferences... Hmmm... I'd recommend a brunette. He has a thing for... Yes, that'll be all. Thank you for your time."

Jack walked back into the meeting with a smirk on his face. _Amateur, _he murmured to himself with victory. "Mr Bass has been called away on urgent business," he motioned to his colleagues, "but thankfully he has left you in my excellent and capable hands." The row of seats nodded in agreement, and Jack Bass had a sour taste in his mouth. They called it, the taste of success.

"Blair!" Chuck called, banging open the door of his hotel room with a wicked glint in his eye. "God, I've missed you..." His face started suddenly with distaste as he saw an unknown woman displayed lavishly in red, dripping over the edge of his bed.

"And who, are you?" He stuttered angrily, his cheeks red, already seeing how easily he'd been played by his psychotic uncle.

"Annette..." She slurred huskily, spreading her legs as she stepped up to press her deep red lips into his palm. "You called for..."

"I asked for no-one." He bit back, refusing to look at the stripper as she tried to wrap her body around him, her big blue eyes looking up into his with desperation as she pulled her red lips closer to his.

"Please, leave me." He rasped coarsely, watching her step up from the bed with embarrassment. Her eyes looking misty in the daylight as she tugged with embarrassment at the laced corset and black knee high stockings that she was wearing, suddenly feeling massively under dressed.

"I'm sorry, if I offended you." He added guiltily, "you're not who I thought you were."

"Neither were you." She retorted, tying up her coat before flouncing out of the room, trying to retain any sense of dignity in which she had left.

Chuck rubbed his temples with exasperation as he watched the door close behind his uncle's mistake. If Jack had thought that he was that easily won over by a stripper, in red lace, then he had seriously underestimated the competition. That was his mistake of four years ago. He would not make the same mistake again.

Picking up his phone his dialled the, oh so familiar number. _The one from forever ago_.

"Blair?" He asked, nervously. Putting his heart on the line for one final time. They had waited so long for this. It was tantalising, excruciating and he could barely restrain the ecstacy as he waited to hear her crystal voice on the other end of the line.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

_Three words. Ten letters_. A Reiteration of the first question he had ever asked her. On that fateful first night in the back of his limousine.

He replied, only with

"I'm yours."


End file.
